egoist

distorted audio....... creepy miku tuning...... so peak

This brunette wants her lips red and bruised from making out not from skin-picking due to stress

To be able to hand you a glass statue without feeling that stone lodged in my chest. How am I not supposed to end up loyal?

I'm just not a trustworthy person. You told me so. I just never appear trustworthy. I talk too clinically, sometimes I say really out-of-pocket things, and with everything I try to take an objective stance. People can't trust me, because they know I won't be loyal to them.
            Loyalty. "Loyalty knows no morality," you told me. I didn't get it then, but I get it now. It isn't particularly about liking someone's character or getting along with them. It's commitment. It's trust on a much, much higher level. It's at a level of trust where you're so over trusting one another that morality is no question at all — you don't even know it. The difference between casual trust and loyalty. I guess I know what it is for me.

How does a man consistently end up being charismatic even while fumbling like no one's ever fumbled before

Beating the avoidant allegations

Beating the avoidant allegations I believed in

Beating the avoidant allegations by loving and being loved

Who. Cares. Just do it

Is it infj Se grip if I'm seeking out thrills like getting into online vigilantism again. Like does that count for mindless thrill seeking

I'm going to make terrible life decisions again right after I'm done with the paper. I'm bored

I truly wish I was a stray. Just hopping to and from different gardens. But I'm stuck, right here in my boring, dreadful garden with my stupid hands that only want to torch the other gardens.

People are disgusting, they just are

I should probably write down my wishes somewhere and carry it in my wallet.

Sssssyyyyylussssssssssss.........the brainrot is calling me bacccckkkkkk

My possessive parasitic ass should never be a vampire

I've been placed on fraudwatch

INÉS I'VE SEEN THAT HE CAN HANDLE ALL THAT BUT I CAN TOO

IT'S JUST....ARRGHHGHG...... SINCE THE FIRST EPISODE HE'S DONE NOTHING BUT TRY TO MAKE HER LIFE BETTER.... ALL HE'S DONE IS IMPROVE HER LIFE WITHOUT JUDGING HER..... JUST CREATING HER A SPACE WHERE SHE CAN JUST FEEL LOVED........... EVEN WHEN HE THOUGHT SHE DIDNT LOVE HIM HE WAS JUST CONSIDERATE...... NOW SHE LOVES HIM AND HJRGHRGRJ CÁRCEL MOVE ITS MY TURN TO BE LOVED BY INÉS

Projecting Onto Them

Boo

I am just too desensitized and now people don't think of me as a human being

A matter of perspective and life experience I guess. My parents' job and Turkish politics ruined me as a person

I learned that when he said real gold, he meant real gold.
            After I had forgotten about it, it appeared on my workstation. Actual molten gold holding the pieces together.
            Actual molten gold.
            "It was a piece you liked," he told me calmly, ignoring my hand grabbing his collar. "As long as you keep it safe, it should be fine."
            The problem wasn't the statue.
            "How much went into this?" I demanded. "Actual gold, Glassblower, how much did it cost?"
            He didn't tell me.
            I debated breaking it again. But even without the gold, it would be an insult to his art. Because I knew this wasn't the exact technique. I could see the small imperfections from fixing up the details. I'm as good as he is, after all.
            So now, it sits on my best shelf. Shining in the sunlight.

Someone broke a particularly valuable piece I had made before my break.
            That glass was special. I collected every shard I could. Cuts all over my hands. It was an ordinary event, and it almost felt like one.
            "No fucking way," he said, looking over my shoulder. "You're kidding? This one broke?"
            I just sighed. "Well. I think there are smaller missing shards."
            "Yeah?"
            "Yeah," a nod. "I'm thinking I'll melt them and just... remake it?"
            "The shape isn't going to be the exact same," he hummed. "You're working on a smaller scale with less material. It won't work. Not easily at least."
            I knew that.
            "...sucks to be me, then."
            He looked at me, and then at the shards. Then, with a groan, he picked up the towel I placed the shards on. "Alright, follow. Up up up."
            So I did.
            "...I didn't know kintsugi could be used for glass," I said after he told me how he'd fix it.
            "Just trying shit out," he huffed.
            "At least it'll look cool."
            "It damn better."
            "I mean, fake gold sprinkles... It'll sort of look lame," I chuckled.
            "No, it's real gold."
            I just stared at him.
            "...what?"
            "Real gold. What, did you think I'd half-ass it?"
            "...real. gold. sprinkles."
            "What? No," he huffed. "Not sprinkles— okay, nevermind, out. I'll give it back to you once I'm done."

I took a break from shaping glass.
            Instead, I watched Glassblower on his workstation.
            He doesn't accept clients any longer. I think he had his fair share of careless clients. "Why would I listen to them while I make things?" he said once, "They don't know what all of this actually takes. Garbage directions from ignorant people."
            So he makes them the way he wants, puts them up on display.
            I found my hands trembling any time someone stopped by to check them out, insulting his work. "How the fuck am I supposed to hold this?" one yelled at him, "It's literally just a glass, spiky ball."
            I got up to tell him off before Glassblower took the statue and smashed it on his head.
            "Some of the ones I make are meant to shatter," he told me later. Chuckling.
            I wouldn't admit that I found it funny. But I think there was a lesson of some sorts there, meant for me.